The Blond Barista
by SamLovesRory
Summary: It's Rory's first time at Starbucks, but luckily Sam is there to help him navigate the tricky menu.


**Author's Note: **Written for Anon (Tumblr) based on the prompt: **Rory and Sam go to a coffee shop. **It would mean the world to me if you would take the time to let me know what you think (I love compliments and also appreciate constructive criticism)! Thanks to SkewedReality for mentoring me. As with anything on this website, I do not own Glee nor the characters involved. This story does not necessarily reflect the sexuality/relationship of Rory Flanagan and Sam Evans (we can only dream) or the actors who portray them. Enjoy! :)

"Your drinks will be ready in a few minutes, just down there. Have a nice day."

As the three extremely demanding hipsters muttered their thanks and wandered over to the other end of the bar, Sam Evans let out a sigh of relief. His head was reeling from their incredibly complex orders; asking for specially layered coffees and fat-free tea infusions he wasn't sure even _existed_.

Reflecting on his decision to take a summer job at Starbucks, Sam wondered if he ought to have just accepted Puck's offer of joining the pool cleaning business. Good upper body exercise, a chance to work on his tan and an abundance of those delicious tropical fruit drinks courtesy of Lima's moms. At least he wouldn't have had to memorize math equations to brew a cup of coffee.

Sam was pulled from his thoughts as the coffee shop's door opened with the jingle of a bell. As he reluctantly straightened his black cap and prepared for another undoubtedly brain-frying order, Sam looked up and—

_Oh my god!_ He thought.

Treading slowly, timidly into the shop was the most gorgeous boy Sam had ever had the pleasure of beholding. The teenager had a head of tousled brown hair, a shimmery set of clear blue eyes and an innocent face—all worn on a lean frame of average height. He was dressed in dark jeans and a light-blue button-down shirt with an olive-green messenger bag slung over one shoulder. His clothing was peppered with dark spots; it must have started raining.

Sam was totally caught off guard when the boy whispered a shy, "Hello."

"Oh, um, hi." _Shit_. Voice crack. "Hey, what's, um, going on?"

"If it isn't dry, it's better wet," the brunet said with a half-smile and a chuckle. Sam felt a tiny part of his brain melt as he heard the charming accent in the new customer's voice.

Then he stared blankly at the boy, without a single clue as to what he had just said. "Uh, what?"

"Oh, sorry," the boy said with a sad sigh. "Forgot I'm not back home. Ehm, just a little thing me Mam used to say. You know, be happy with what ye got? If it's raining, so be it. Yeah, it's really stupid."

"No," Sam said hurriedly. He smiled. "It's nice."

"Things sure are different in Ireland. I came here fer school…term hasn't even started and I miss 'em all like mad."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Sam said.

The boy smiled a little bit. "Thank ye."

"I'm Sam Evans," the blond said, sticking out his hand. The brunet shook it and Sam couldn't help but notice the warm softness of the boy's skin.

"That's a very American name. I'm Rory Flanagan."

Sam grinned. "That's quite Irish, if you ask me."

Rory laughed softly, his eyes shining brightly.

They were silent for a moment.

Giving himself a mental slap to the head, Sam resolved to turn on the charm. He knew, regrettably, that he had no chance with this stunning boy…but he was willing to try.

Little did he know that Rory was thinking the exact same thing. The brunet was hopelessly attracted to the Starbucks barista who, in his opinion, represented the essence of the all-American boy. Tall and well built, with golden hair and emerald green eyes.

"So, what can I get for you?" Sam asked.

Rory's cheeks reddened. "I've never been to a Starbucks before."

"No problem, I'll walk you through the menu. Cool?"

"Okay."

"Are you looking for tea or coffee or hot chocolate or a smoothie or—"

Rory widened his eyes. "Goodness. Ehm, tea is fine for me."

"That's good. Narrows down the options. I don't know if you're ready to explore the differences between brewed, espresso and Frappuccinos," Sam told him with a wink.

"Maybe next time, Sam," Rory offered, hoping to see the blond again…and again.

"Alright," Sam chuckled. "Are you feeling like a hot tea or an iced one?"

"What would ye recommend," Rory asked with a playful smile, enjoying their rapport.

Sam nibbled on his lip and nodded slowly. "Well, you're pretty hot."

"Ehm, what?"

"Crap," Sam faltered, "I mean, you, uh, _look_ really hot. No…like warm. Like it's humid, you know."

Rory grinned, pleased. "Oh, I see. Iced sounds good, then."

"What kind?"

"Surprise me," Rory muttered.

Sam's fingers shook as he fumbled with the cash register. "Okay."

Rory couldn't hide his happiness as Sam stuttered over the price and their hands touched again when he handed over the strange currency.

Separating the coins into the proper compartments in the register, Sam was totally taken aback when Rory said quite coolly, "Ye look pretty hot, as well. Ye know, like warm."

The blond looked down at his feet and smiled ecstatically, before reaching to grab a clear plastic cup. He uncapped a black Sharpie. "I need your phone number, Rory."

"Why?" The Irish boy asked, puzzled.

"That's how it works at Starbucks. When your drink is ready, I'll call out your number."

Rory nodded suspiciously. "Grand."

Once he had scribbled the number on the cup, Sam turned to start mixing the drink. Rory drummed a quick beat on the countertop and said, "See ye in a tick."

Sam hummed contently to himself as he tried his best to make the most delicious drink he could. Rory deserved an amazing first Starbucks.

The brunet had settled in at a table, watching Sam work behind the counter. He had a twinkle in his eyes as Sam loudly called out his telephone number, several of the other customers glaring.

"Thank ye very much," Rory said when Sam presented him with the creamy blend.

"The pleasure was all mine."

Rory returned to his seat and pulled off the plastic film from a straw, jamming it through the cover. He had barely taken a sip of the delicious drink when his cell phone buzzed.

The Irish boy turned it on to find a new text message: **Hi :)**

Rory glanced up from the screen and saw Sam hunched over his own phone. The Irish boy giggled softly and replied: **Who is this?**

Sam texted back promptly: **Just somebody who really, really likes you.**

**Well**, Rory sent back, **I really like this person, too.**

Sam's fingers skittered across his phone's keyboard before stuffing it into his pocket. He ducked through a door at the back of the bar just as a new barista came to replace him.

Rory's phone buzzed a moment later: **Do you think this person could take you on a date?**

Flashing the most dazzling of smiles, Rory looked up to see Sam standing by the entrance to the coffee shop, having changed out of his uniform. Without hesitation, the Irish boy grabbed his things and followed the blond out the door.


End file.
